Chapter 4 First Impressions – Kerry
The evening should be magical, a grand glittering affair shimmering with promise, yet here I am, rattled by an encounter with a devilishly handsome man who had the gall to call me a gold digger.
Honestly, why do the hot ones always have to be hot trash?
Note to self: stay far away from him .
Despite the rocky start, I step into Izzy’s upscale store opening, trying to shake off being unfairly judged and dive into a sea of familiar and new faces.
“Look who’s finally here, y’all! Let’s welcome our town’s very own sweetheart, Kerry Kind!” Izzy’s commanding voice echoes over the crowd.
A sea of heads turns my way, and I plaster on a polite smile, giving a small wave as if I’m not internally cringing.
But then, out of the corner of my eye, I catch Mr.
Gorgeous-and-Rude, standing at the back of the room, effortlessly cool with a glass of champagne in hand, rolling his eyes like it’s his full-time job.
Surrounded by familiar faces, the locals who have watched me grow up from my sandbox days pull me into warm, nostalgic hugs.
Their laughter rings out as they recount tales of my childhood mischief.
Now, it’s my turn to roll my eyes as I listen to the one too many times I got a playful tap on the butt for causing a ruckus during church services.
Some can’t resist delving deep into my personal life as the conversations continue.
And though their intentions are genuine, they’re also borderline intrusive.
Friendly Townie #1 : Oh, Kerry, I had lunch with your mom the other day.
She told me about your little job situation.
Your next hair appointment is on me, sweetie .
Friendly Townie #2 : You’ve been glowing ever since your divorce.
Good riddance to that dumb boy!
Friendly Townie #3 : There’s the town beauty.
From your mugshot to this fancy opening, Lord knows you can pull off any look.
I force a tight smile, nodding through the well-meaning but invasive comments.
Just as I’m about to drown in small-town familiarity, Serena swoops in with her larger-than-life presence.
“Kerry Kind,” she announces dramatically, looping her arm through mine.
“How do you manage to outshine everyone? My clothes even look better on you. You effortlessly steal the spotlight!”
I chuckle, grateful for the distraction.
“Stop gassin’ me up! I’m still mad at y’all for applying for that job! A nanny? Really? I teach kids, not raise them. I’d be terrible at it, just terrible.”
“Serena’s right. You look so sexy!” Kiera playfully adds, “I mean – you always look good, in a cute, cozy way, but you’re looking thirty-FINE right now!”
I laugh, shaking my head.
“I’m glad someone thinks so because that man over there has already spoiled my mood.” I nod subtly toward the brooding figure now charming a circle of affluent guests.
Serena squints, her interest piqued.
“Hmm… a tall, dark, and mysteriously handsome man with the salt-and-pepper hair? Who is he? What’s his name? Just asking for a friend, of course.”
Kiera fans herself dramatically.
“Damn, that man is… whew!” She glances around.
“Where’s my husband? I need a goofy distraction from all that sexiness.”
Izzy joins in, squinting across the room.
“Seriously, where’d he come from? He’s not from around Beverly Mills and looks out of place among the Greer folks.” She pauses, her eyes narrowing.
“What I do know is he’s been eyeing you for the past twenty seconds. Maybe you should formally introduce yourself and give him a proper Beverly Mills welcome.”
I scoff, dismissing the idea.
“He’s not staring at me.”
But our eyes lock when I sneak another glance, and my heart skips a beat.
“Holy crap, is he staring at me ?
Serena nods slowly. “Yep.
Talk about a step up from your ex.
”
I take a sip of champagne, trying to play it cool.
“Maybe I should go demand an apology for his earlier comment. ”
Kiera pats my shoulder, grinning.
“Oh, sweetheart, if flirting were a class, you’d still be in kindergarten.”
Serena snickers.
“We keep forgetting you’ve only ever been with one man—a halfling at that. You’re about as clueless as a virgin.”
“Hey!” I protest, placing my hands firmly on my hips.
“Just because Cory was my one and only doesn’t mean I haven’t learned a few tricks. I have plenty of toys.” I proudly retort, a playful spark igniting within me.
The girls burst into laughter.
Izzy wipes a tear from the corner of her eye.
“Oh, Kerry, what’re we gonna do with you? Mix and mingle. Secure a job. No, better yet, secure that fine man over there.”
My friends’ playful teasing ushers in a lighter, more bearable mood to the evening.
Yet, beneath the surface, the sting from the unpleasant encounter with that infuriatingly handsome man still burns.
Despite his undeniable allure, I remind myself of the resolve that led me to divorce my ex.
I will never allow anyone to disrespect or hurt me ever again.
So, I dive into the crowd, schmoozing with Greer’s elite, dreading every moment of pitching myself like an infomercial on a desperate loop.
The compliments on my looks flow as freely as the champagne.
Even worse are the questions about my credentials.
Ultimately, each conversation ends with the same non-committal responses.
Rich Prick #1 : I’ll give you a call if I’m interested.
But I’ll call you sooner if you’re ‘interested,’ if you know what I mean.
Rick Prick #2 : Could you provide a reference from your last employer?
You know, your former principal turned Superintendent, Cory Martin?
Rich Prick #3 : Aren’t you the same Kerry Kind that got arrested?
My smile grows tighter with each exchange, and the urge to throw my champagne in someone’s face grows stronger by the second.
Cory’s shadow constantly looms over me.
No matter where I go or what I do, my name will always be associated with my shitty ex-husband.
Exhausted from the relentless networking, dismissals, and objectification, I unexpectedly come face-to-face with Grey Beard, the very source of my earlier annoyance, my official bad luck.
And not just metaphorically; I literally stumble forward and into his arms as my heel catches on the plush carpet, my face nearly colliding with his chest !
Crap.
This is mortifying.
I should’ve practiced walking in heels before I left the house.
I’m definitely not in my twenties anymore.
My cheeks burn as I scramble to regain my balance.
When I finally look up, his intense gaze is already locked on me—sharp, assessing, and just a little too amused.
Or is it concern?
It’s hard to tell because, despite the flicker of something softer, he wears his smugness like a badge of honor.
He stands so strong and tall.
His dark skin gleams under the chandelier lighting, smooth and rich, while pepper-gray strands dust his low fade and well-groomed beard, highlighting the kind of age that doesn’t fade a man but refines him.
He’s a god.
And again, nearly everything about him leaves me flustered.
That is…
until he opens his mouth.
“Well, well, well,” he drawls, his deep voice dripping with mockery.
“We meet again, except you’re throwing yourself at me this time. Am I your actual mark, Ms. Kind?”
The nerve.
“First of all, how do you even know my name, Mr. Grey Beard?” I snap, straightening my spine despite the mortification still sizzling under my skin.
His lips curl into a slow, lazy smirk.
“Did you forget the grand introduction? The sweetheart of the town. Seems you’ve got everyone fooled.”
His gaze rakes over me with hunger, igniting a flame within me.
He then leans in, close enough for his intoxicating cologne to envelope me, and in a low, husky whisper, he says, “But I see right through you, gold digger.”
His warm breath brushes against my ear, sending an involuntary shiver down my spine.
As he pulls back, that smug, knowing grin stays plastered on his face.
The proximity between us feels as dangerous as my growing desire for him.
He’s trouble.
Undeniable, breathtaking trouble.
But despite my indignation, I find myself inexplicably drawn in, unable to maintain the distance I vowed to keep.
“You’re insufferable,” I bite out, my voice sharp as glass.
“Mr… I don’t even know your name, but I do know you aren’t worth knowing. You’re just like every other rude, rich, little dick prick in this room. ”
His expression shifts, and it’s enough for me to notice the hardening of his jaw, the flicker of something serious in his eyes.
“I’m not.” He says quietly, his voice a low rumble.
“Oh? So, you’re not rich then?” I challenge, crossing my arms, though it feels like a flimsy shield against the intensity of his stare.
He steps closer, his presence overwhelming, his eyes never leaving mine.
“No,” he replies, firm and unblinking.
“Nor entitled.”
The space between us shrinks until there’s barely any left.
His towering frame casts a shadow over me, and his breath, laced with peppermint and arrogance, mingles with mine.
“And I’m definitely not little,” he adds, his voice dropping to a gravelly whisper.
“In any way.”
Oh, goodness!
We’re standing so close now, it feels like the floor could disappear, and we’d still be stuck here, locked in this ridiculous, magnetic pull.
What makes the situation worse is that I accidentally look down to confirm that little part.
“Everything about you screams inappropriate, you know that?” I whisper, my voice a traitorous breath, shaky and thin.
He chuckles, soft and infuriatingly sexy.
“Says the beautiful sharp-tongued sweetheart looking for her next come up.”
What the hell?
!
This man is driving me crazy in every tantalizing, blood-boiling way.
Am I just attracted to evil men?
As I force myself to break away from his spellbinding gaze, I realize that it’s not just us wrapped up in this moment.
The entire room seems to be watching us, including the figure from the corner of my eye.
“Holy shit,” I whisper, panic coiling tight in my chest.
He immediately senses my distress, his playful demeanor shifting to genuine concern.
“Ms. Kind, what’s wrong?” He inquires, his voice laced with worry.
I barely manage to breathe out, “It’s my ex-husband. He’s here.”
His brows knit together, “Ex-husband?”
And before he can fully process my answer, I clutch his strong, hard chest.
Yes, his actual chest.
Then, I force a laugh so fake it could win an Oscar.
“What the hell are you doing?” He mutters, his confusion clear as day .
“Just play along,” I hiss, my smile stretching painfully wide as Cory approaches.
He shakes his head with amusement and exasperation in his eyes, slightly muttering, “And you say I’m the sufferable one?”
Then, that all-too-familiar authoritative voice cuts through the tension.
“Hi, Kerry. You look…stunning,” Cory says, his tone dripping with a possessiveness that makes my skin crawl.
It’s thrilling when the stranger speaks to me like that, but Cory’s gaze feels disgusting.
“Stop looking at me like I’m your property, Cory,” I snap, my voice sharp, refusing to let him rattle me.
Cory’s expression shifts from smug to something sinister, a look I know all too well.
“You’ll always be mine.” He says with certainty.
There’s a chilling pause between his possessive glare and his declaration over me.
I want to respond, but I find myself frozen until the stranger beside me wraps a protective arm around my waist.
His eyes lock with Cory’s, unflinching.
“You sure about that?” His tone is loaded with a confidence that I’ve never heard directed at my ex before.
Shocked and taken aback, Cory’s face twists with jealousy as he snaps, “And who the hell are you?”
The room is now watching, and the air is thick with anticipation while my embarrassment peaks, but before I can sink into the floor, the unhinged stranger clutches my waist tighter, grounding me in his confidence.
He doesn’t even flinch.
His voice is calm, but there’s an edge to it—a challenge.
“I’m her date.”
Oh, God.
A scene.
We’re causing a scene.
I’m never going to get a job now.
Izzy, Serena, and Kiera slowly make their way over while onlookers pretend not to be nosy.
“Date, huh?” Cory sneers, his arrogance on high.
“Well, I’m the only man Kerry’s ever dated, so welcome to the club. I’m also the school Superintendent. So, if you ever need a job, just let me know. Kerry knows all about needing work. Isn’t that right, babe?” He winks and then reaches for me.
His fingers aim for my face, but I step back and dodge his touch.
I want to scream.
No, I want to cry, and this is precisely how Cory wants me to feel—embarrassed, worthless, helpless, and beneath him.
I shrink back, my heart hammering.
But before I can crumble, the stranger’s hold tightens, pulling me closer, and I’m suddenly reminded of the woman I am, the woman I worked so hard to rediscover over the years.
Before I can process the humiliation, his grip tightens.
His voice is low but firm, slicing through Cory’s arrogance like a blade.
“We’re good over here, Superintendent. My woman doesn’t want or need anything,” He declares with authority.
“Isn’t that right, babe ?”
Oh, he’s good.
I nod, emboldened by his firm hold.
“That’s right. I can take care of myself, but it’s nice having an amazing man who wants to give me the world.” My gaze snaps to Cory, and I flash him a sweet, venom-laced smile.
“And by the way, I know I’m irresistible and all, but don’t ever try to touch me again.”
The stranger’s hand slides up my side, a subtle, possessive gesture that sends a shiver rippling through me.
His touch is…
distracting—like, really distracting.
For a fleeting moment, I forget Cory’s even here until he clears his throat, trying to reclaim the attention he craves.
“So,” Cory sneers, his gaze darting between us, “when did this little… thing start? And what’s your name, anyway? We’re a tight-knit family here in Beverly Mills-Greer. You’re clearly new to town.”
Oh God.
My heart slams against my ribs.
I don’t even know this man’s name.
This is bad— really bad.
I catch Izzy’s wide-eyed panic from across the room, silently screaming, Say something!
But my brain has left the building.
The stranger, unfazed as ever, extends his hand to Cory with effortless charm.
“Well, I wasn’t expecting my first night out to turn into a public inquisition,” he says with an easy smile, scanning the nosy onlookers.
“But, hello, everyone. I’m Victor. But feel free to call me Vic.”
Cory’s laugh is sharp, hollow, dripping with condescension.
“Vic, huh? So, you’re just a passing grifter trying to take advantage of simple folks like our Kerry, huh?”
As usual, Cory attempts to belittle me in front of the gathered crowd with a smug smile and condescending tone.
He stands there, smirking, enjoying the discomfort his remarks stir up, making it clear he still sees himself as the gatekeeper…
of me.
His ability to wield passive aggression like a weapon is nothing new.
He’s mastered the art of undermining others while keeping his own hands clean.
This moment is no different.
By painting Vic as an outsider and me the naive local, he not only reinforces his position of power but also attempts to isolate me.
He ’s trying to make me feel small; making it harder for me to gain any ground in life, to be independent and free of him.
Nevertheless, I fire back, my voice laced with irritation and pride.
“The only simple thing about me, Cory Martin, is my ex-husband. And Vic happens to be very accomplished. Thank you very much!”
I silently pray Vic can keep up with the facade I’ve just reinforced.
“Oh, really?” Izzy interjects, her curiosity dripping with poorly concealed glee.
“What is it you do, Vic?”
Ooh, I’m going to kill Izzy.
My best friends are loving this.
Everyone’s prying eyes and eager whispers remind me just how suffocating small-town life can be.
His smile deepens, that devil-may-care glint flashing in his dark eyes.
“Actually, I’ve been meaning to introduce myself properly. I’m your new neighbor. Bought the plot next door.” He pauses, savoring the room’s collective inhale.
“My full name is Chef Victor Grimes.”
A collective gasp sweeps through the room.
I manage to keep my composure, but I’m a whirlwind of emotions inside.
“ The Chef Vic? The owner of the Grimes Restaurant Empire? You’re a culinary genius!” Someone gushes from the crowd.
I catch Cory’s expression, his face a mask of utter shock, rendering him speechless and demoralized.
Another voice chimes in, breaking his stupor.
“And you’re dating our Kerry? Our chaotic little Kerry?”
“Our sweet Kerry?” Another voice chirps as if I’m some hometown mascot.
Geez, is it that hard to believe?
Do they actually see me as some simple, timid townie?
Did Cory really grind me down so small in everyone’s minds?
Did I really allow him to do that to me?
Victor’s gaze softens as it meets mine, his voice dropping to something that almost feels sincere.
“Well, I’ve been asking myself the same question since the day we met. What do you say, Kerry? Are we dating?”
The crowd leans in, practically holding their breath.
“Kerry don’t make us call your parents! You better answer that fine man.” Someone teases, laughter rippling through the room.
In any other situation, I’d scream hell no !
But seeing Cory’s deflated ego gives me a wicked sense of satisfaction .
“Yes,” I say boldly, relishing the energy shift.
“We’re dating. We’ve been seeing each other quietly for a few months because privacy’s hard to come by in this town.”
Effortlessly playing along, Victor slips his arm from around my waist.
He lifts my hand, pressing a soft kiss to my knuckles.
The warmth of his lips sends a jolt straight to my core.
Damn him.